Damaged hearts skip beats

“I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.” – The Castle, Kafka

Wandering souls shape unfulfilled desires.

Sending black arrows through the gaze of dusty spaces
With the bittersweet tenderness of aborted chances.